


All I Wanna Do

by miss_grey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Frottage, Hook-Up, M/M, Song fic, Strangers, Weirdness, it's all sheryl crow's fault, meet in a bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 09:22:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_grey/pseuds/miss_grey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little something based off of Sheryl Crow's "All I Wanna Do."  Also, I just love that song. Bahahahaha.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Wanna Do

            It’s so goddamn hot outside that Dean’s hair and shirt and jeans are sticking to his skin.  His boots feel like they’re melting to the freaking pavement.  The sign for the Roadhouse is a sight for sore eyes and he pushes through the door, shoulder heavy against the creaky wood, and shuffles in.  He’s immediately hit by a blast of stale air—smelling like beer and sweat—but it’s _cold_ and that means it’s Heaven.  The room is wide and open, but dim—thank god.  Ash looks up from the newspaper propped in front of him and flaps a lazy wave at Dean before pulling himself up from his stool and snatching a bottle of beer from under the counter.  Dean gives the man a curt nod, grateful for the chill of the bottle against the heat of his skin. 

            He glances around the bar: it’s noon on a Tuesday and mostly empty.  The regulars are all slouched over their shots and lonely beers already—Ernie in the corner, Gloria and Yvette playing cards, smoking, shooting vodka—and a guy sitting at the end of the bar that Dean has never seen before.  Dean pops the top off his beer with a practiced twist and takes a swig while he measures the guy up over the lip of his bottle.  New Guy is dressed in a black suit, blue tie on backwards, heavy tan trench coat covering the rest.  His shoes are scuffed and his hair is mussed like he’s just crawled out of bed.  A five o’clock shadow colors his jaw.  He stares down at his own bottle of beer like it holds the meaning of life. 

            Dean takes another swig before he saunters over and takes a seat on the stool next to the guy.  He thunks his own bottle onto the bar.  New Guy doesn’t even glance his way.  Doesn’t bother Dean any, though.  He takes another long pull of his beer and stares out the window.  The bar faces a car wash across the street.  The day is so hot that Dean can see heat rising from the pavement between here and there and yet…. The good, honest people of the world, dressed in suits like New Guy were across the street, busily scrubbing and spraying at their cars during their lunch breaks while trying to keep the mud and water from spraying back at them.  Dean snorts to himself and rolls the bottle between his hands.  The condensation on the glass is awesome, so he lifts the bottle to his forehead.  Damn, that feels so good…. He closes his eyes and groans at the feel of the frosty glass.

            “All I want to do is have a little fun before I die,” comes a deep, gravelly voice from his left.  Dean’s eyes pop open and he turns them, without moving the bottle from his head, to look at the source of the voice.  Whoa.  Didn’t see that coming.  New Guy looks too young and lean for a voice like _that._ Dean is still staring when the guy finally looks up from his near-empty beer bottle.  And _damn_.  Those eyes.  Big and blue and framed by a thick row of dark lashes.  And aside from the stubble, the man is actually sort of pretty.  Dean swallows thickly and New Guy reaches a hand out, says “My name is Castiel.”  Dean carefully sets his bottle back down and reaches a moist hand out to clasp New Guy’s.

            “Castiel?”  Dean snorts, “You ever had a day of fun in your life, Cas?”  Dean flicks his eyes over Cas’s get-up.  Guy looks like a freaking accountant.

            Cas squints at him, and it’s almost adorable, before he sighs and shakes his head dejectedly.  He drops his hand and turns back to the bottle.  Dean sighs, waves at Ash for another couple beers, and shifts his stool just a bit closer so that his and Cas’s shoulders are almost touching.  The two new beers clunk onto the bar and Dean twists one open and pushes it toward Cas before downing the rest of his first one.  Cas frowns at the bottle for a moment before glancing at Dean, who is resolutely looking out the window again, and then taking a swig.  The soft sigh after the sip of ice-cold beer is totally worth it. 

            They sit together quietly for a moment, drinking and staring before Dean finally clears his throat and says “I’m Dean.  Winchester.”  Cas inclines his head in acknowledgment.  “So Cas, what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this…?  Shouldn’t you be at work or something?”

            Cas lets out a sigh and starts to pick at the edge of the label on the bottle.  “Nope.”

            Dean quirks a brow.  “There a story to go with that sigh?”

            Cas smirks and shoots him a look out of the corner of his eye.  “I quit my job today.”

            “Oh yeah?  Why’s it got you down, then, if it was your idea?”

            “My boss is a dick and I couldn’t stand to work for him anymore.  And I just… I don’t know.  I was sitting at my desk this morning and just thought ‘Is this really my life?  Is this all I have to look forward to?  How the hell did I get here?’  So I quit.”

            Dean full-on smiles.  “Sounds awesome, man.  So what’s the problem?”

            Cas sighs and his shoulders slump.  “I didn’t really have a plan for what else I’d rather be doing.  So I just… drove.  And then I finally just decided to stop at the next bar I came across.”  He motions vaguely with his hand to indicate the Roadhouse.  “And here I am.  And I still don’t know what I’m going to do.”

            “Well… what do you want to do?”

            Cas shrugs helplessly and looks at Dean with those big, earnest blue eyes and says “All I want to do is have some fun before I… waste away.”

            Dean sends him a smirk and bumps their shoulders together.  “Well, today’s your lucky day, then, Cas.  I’m _always_ down for a good time.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

            Two hours later, Dean orders him and Cas both burgers, promising that they’re the best in town.  Cas’s face lights up when he takes the first bite and he gets a smear of ketchup on his cheek.  Dean isn’t drunk enough to reach over and swipe his thumb over it, but he pretends he is.  It tastes good when he pops it into his mouth, but the real reward is the darkening in Cas’s blue eyes.  Dean pretends he doesn’t see it and buys them both another round.

 

* * *

 

 

 

            Cas is brooding.  He’s got bottles lined up in front of himself—he wouldn’t allow Ellen to clear them away.  He’s peeled the labels from them all and shredded them methodically so that a pile of blue and gold paper sits between himself and Dean.  It’s weird.  Cas is weird.  But honestly, Dean couldn’t give a fuck.  He kind of likes to watch Cas’s slender, nimble fingers rip the pieces of paper while they talk in low tones about life and how nothing ever seems to work out how you think it will. 

            Ellen gives them a stern look over the bar when Cas pulls a book of matches out of his trench coat and lights one.  He holds it between his thumb and index finger and watches it until it burns down to the bottom, almost singeing his skin, before he hisses and blows it out.  Then he lights another.  Dean shifts on his stool and asks “You a smoker, Cas?”

            “No.”  Is all the answer he gets.  But Dean doesn’t care because the flames make Cas’s eyes look black and cast strange shadows on his face, and Dean is really okay with that. 

            Cas never asks Dean why he’s there, or why he’s hanging out with Cas, and Dean likes that about him.  But Cas does tell him about Catholic school and college and the firm where he worked as an accountant.  He tells Dean about his brothers and sisters that drive him crazy enough that he moved to the other side of the country to get away from them.  As he gets steadily drunker, he tells Dean about how his last relationship just _crashed and burned_ because Cas isn’t empathetic or interesting enough.  Dean kinda just wants to tell Cas that he’s totally digging it, but he doesn’t.  Because that would be even weirder than whatever the hell they’re doing already is.

 

* * *

 

 

 

            The door bangs open and a happy couple stumbles in, arms wrapped around each other, giving each other honeymoon eyes.  They walk over to a table in the center of the bar.  The woman, young and beautiful, sits down and the man leans over her to plant a long, sensual kiss on her lips before heading to the bar.  Dean tears his eyes away from them to look back at Cas.  Cas is staring longingly at the couple but he finally looks away and when he meets Dean’s eyes, he blushes and looks down at the mess of shredded paper in front of him.  He looks so confused for a moment before he murmurs “I don’t even know how many drinks I’ve had.”

            Dean laughs—he’s not sure why because it’s not that funny, and he claps Cas on the back.  “Well if you’re still talking clearly then obviously not enough, man.”  Dean brushes his thumb over Cas’s shoulder and sees another wave of pink spread over the other man’s cheeks.  Dean squeezes.  “Hey—you wanna get out of here?” 

            Cas looks up quickly, eyes startled, before he blurts “Yes, please.”

            Dean pays their tab, waving away Cas’s money when he holds it out, and then they leave the bar with Ellen shaking her head after them.

            Dean slings an arm around Cas’s shoulders, pulling the other man a bit closer, and as he looks around at their surroundings, he wonders just when the hell it got dark out.  But at least it doesn’t feel like they just walked into Hell.

            “Where are we going?”  Cas murmurs. 

Dean shrugs “Where do you wanna go?”

“I don’t know.  I just… I just want to feel alive, Dean.”

            Dean smirks to himself before offering “I can do that.”  As they pass a break in the line of buildings, Dean grabs Cas and swings him into the alley.  For a moment, Cas struggles, possibly thinking that Dean is about to mug him.  But then Dean follows after him, pushes Cas’s hands out of the way, and dives in to press his lips against Cas’s own.  Cas opens his mouth, to protest, maybe, but his words are smothered by Dean’s lips and tongue and a moment later, Cas has his hands fisting in the material of Dean’s t-shirt and he’s _moaning_.  Dean licks into Cas’s mouth, tasting the beer and Cas and it’s just so _hot_.  He presses his full body against Cas’s and doesn’t know whether he should laugh or cry when their cocks brush through the cloth of their pants and he realizes they’re both already hard.  He twines his fingers through Cas’s hair, messing it up further, and he grinds his hips forward.  Cas hisses and thunks his head against the brick wall.  When Dean presses one of his legs between Cas’s, the other man whines and Dean happily swallows the noise down.  His hands are everywhere: in Cas’s hair, pushing the trench coat off of the other man’s shoulders, sliding down to Cas’s hips, tugging his shirt out of his pants.  And Cas’s are clawing at Dean’s back and he’s writhing against Dean now, jerking his hips hard into Dean’s, rolling them so sinfully into his and they have a rhythm and the alleyway is getting so hot….

            Dean can’t do anything more than press his face into Cas’s neck and pant as they rub against each other and it’s been _so long_ since he’s gotten off this easily.  The world whites out for a moment when he comes and he thinks he might collapse but Cas’s arms hold him steady.  When he comes back down to Earth, Cas is breathing heavily in his ear and Dean’s boxers are sticky and he knows they’ll be uncomfortable later, but _damn_ that was good.  He’s almost afraid to look at Cas’s face when he pulls back, but Cas’s eyes are closed and he’s actually smiling.  Dean leans forward and kisses him gently.  When he draws back, Cas’s eyes are open and he’s watching Dean.  He opens his mouth to say something but then doesn’t.  He closes his mouth and furrows his brows.  Dean smirks at him and Cas finally tries again.  “Can we… uh… can we do that again?”

              Dean leans forward to nip gently at Cas’s earlobe before he whispers “Sure we can.  But we’re not going home yet.”  He pulls back and smiles winningly at Cas before tugging at his sleeve.  “Come on man, let’s go live a little.”


End file.
